The man’s right hand clamped tightly onto Simon’s shoulder. It looked like he was wearing a gauntlet of some sort on that hand, but the hand that laid at his side remained unarmored. He had an unbelievable grip, and the metal dug into Simon’s flesh. He could barely stammer out a question.

“Who… who the hell are you?!”

“Who am I?”

The man suddenly released his grip on Simon’s shoulder. Simon stumbled backwards as the man flung back his hood. He shifted his legs and raised his arms towards his head. It looked like he was posing to impress an audience.

“I, am MAXWELL!!!”

Simon was able to get a better look at the man who had just assaulted him. He was tall, for one thing. Simon knew he was kind of short, even Lucy was taller than him, but this guy was probably almost seven feet. His trench coat had opened slightly, and through it a white shirt could be seen. The shirt pressed tightly on his chest, barely hiding his muscles. This man was absolutely ripped.

Maxwell smiled down at Simon. He had a chiseled face, but it didn’t match his black, slicked-back hair. He snapped out of his pose and pointed at Simon with his gauntleted hand.

“And YOU are a scoundrel.”

Simon glanced around the restaurant and saw people staring at the scene that was unfolding. Maybe one of them would get help? Or would he have to fend off this madman by himself? Maybe he could talk his way out of this?

“Uh… I’m sorry, but what?”

“Don’t play dumb! I saw you assaulting that poor woman!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“You were yelling at that woman, and as she walked away, you threatened her LIFE!”

“Threatened her… Wait, you mean Lucy? I think this is just a misunder…”

“DON’T TRY TO WEASEL YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS!”

Simon backed away slowly. This man was obviously unstable.

“People who are wicked, who have no sense of honor or decency, they DISGUST ME! And so, I will take it upon myself to punish you for what you have done to a poor, defenseless citizen!”

“Listen man, she is not defenseless. I think you just need to calm down…”

The door to the restaurant swung open, slamming loudly into the wall, and a new voice joined the conversation.

“What is going on in here?!”

Maxwell and Simon both turned to face the man who had entered the establishment. It was an elderly man, so hunched over that it looked like his head was coming out of the center of his fur coat. The coat was lined on the bottom by multicolored feathers that slid across the floor, making a shuffling sound as he walked. He was bald, and his face was so wrinkly and scrunched that his eyes looked like they were struggling to stay open. He leaned on a tall staff topped with more feathers, and was being helped along by a young man at his side.

Maxwell seemed distracted by the man, and Simon took the opportunity to run away. He tried to run past the old man and out the door, but was interrupted by the man’s staff smacking the top of his head.

“Gah!”

“Don’t leave until I say so! Do you know who I am?”

“No?”

“I am the Eldest! I am the keeper of the laws in this town! And you will listen to what I have to say!”

Simon rubbed his head as the “Eldest” wobbled over to Maxwell.

“Maxwell…”

“Ah! Eldest! I am glad to see you! I was just taking care of this wicked… OW!”

Maxwell was also clocked on the head by the old man’s staff.

“Listen here you wackjob, you’ve been causing trouble ever since you got here, and I’ve had quite enough of it!”

Simon sighed in relief. Somebody was finally talking sense.

“We have rules around here, you can’t just attack people you don’t like!”

Thank you!

“There is a proper way for two men to settle an argument.”

Finally, he would be able to explain what happened.

“And that is through hand-to-hand combat!”

Wait, what?

“Yes! In accordance with our laws and traditions, you two will duel it out in a fistfight to decide who is right in this argument! Is that satisfactory Maxwell?”

Maxwell threw his head back, “Ahahahahaha! That sounds perfect!”

“I thought it might. Come everyone! To the battle dome!”

Simon heard cheering from outside as people began filing into the building. He felt himself being grabbed and pulled along by the crowd. He tried to fight back, but he was already swept outside. He couldn’t help but scream out.

“I just wanted something to eat!!!”

* * *

At the edge of Dawnbell, a winding path extends. It leads away from the town towards a large wooden dome. Nobody knows where the dome came from, or its original purpose, but it has been refurbished to accommodate duels.

Simon had been dragged by the crowd all the way to the dome, and was now sitting within a small stone room. The room was trying to be a dressing room, but all it had was a wobbly table and chair, a cracked mirror, and an empty, dusty closet.

Luckily, somebody had left a basket of fruit on the table. It was old and squishy, but he was hungry, and it didn’t matter. He needed his strength, especially since it looked like he would have to fight somebody. After choking down most of the basket, he threw an apple against the wall. The squishy fruit exploded, and immediately attracted a swarm of flies.

“This is bullshit!”

Lucy was right, this town was dumb. Duels between men must be settled with a fist-fight? What was up with that? Simon wasn’t weak, but he usually relied on his magic to help him in a fight. He assumed that he wouldn’t be allowed to use magic in this fight, and the people here were so obsessed with following the rules, who knows what they would do to him?

A little bell in the corner of the room began ringing, signaling that it was time for him to go out. He took a moment to breath, steeled himself up, and walked to the door. He threw it open, and entered the fighting arena.

The center of the room was a large circular pit, with a door on either end to lead to the dressing rooms. The pit itself was filled with sand and sawdust, creating a floor that constantly shifts and creates awkward footing.

Surrounding the edges of the building were rows of wooden benches, raised above the pit and rising steadily towards the ceiling of the dome. Placed in the center of the benches, equidistant to the two doors, was a large seat meant for the referee. The stands were slowly filling with people, and sitting in the referee’s seat was the “Eldest”.

Simons entered the pit nervously, looking around at all the people who wanted to watch him fight. He slowly removed his coat and pack, placing them on a bench near the door. Soon he was only wearing his pants and a thin shirt. He shivered and hugged his arms as a cool breeze blew in through an open window.

At the other end of the pit stood Maxwell. He was still wearing his trench coat, and was flexing profusely. Simon also noticed that he still seemed to be wearing that gauntlet on his right hand. When was he going to take that thing off?

The Eldest banged his staff against the floor and the audience slowly quieted down.

“Now then! I want a good, fair, fistfight. No weapons! I’m looking at you, scrawny fella!”

“Hey!”

“Now, I hope there are no objections?”

“Actually, I think that if we just talked about this…”

“No! You fight! That is the rules! Now, prepare yourselves.”

Simon slowly stepped further into the pit, while Maxwell grabbed the edge of his coat and flung it off his shoulders in a dramatic flash. As the coat settled to the ground, Simon’s jaw dropped open.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Originally, Simon had thought that Maxwell was wearing a gauntlet, but he now realized that he was sorely mistaken. It looked like Maxwell’s entire right arm was armored, but as the metal reached the shoulder, it almost looked like it was fused together. Metal went under skin, and skin grew around metal. Through openings in the metal plates, Simon could see tubes, pistons, and gears moving and pumping as Maxwell flexed his arm.

Simon turned to the referee, “This has got to be against the rules, right? He has a mechanical arm! How is this even fair.”

Maxwell laughed and interrupted him, “Well you see young one…”

“Simon. And I actually think I’m older than…”

“My arm is specially made! I have calibrated it PERFECTLY! A punch from this arm with be just as strong and fast as a punch from my regular arm! I want to give you a fighting chance after all!”

Simon turned back to the Eldest, “You can’t allow this, can you?”

“Bah! This isn’t the first time Maxwell has fought in here. It was decided that as long as a punch from one arm is no different from the other, it is perfectly fair.”

“But how do you know he isn’t just lying?!”

“Because that would be against the rules! Now quit whining and get ready to fight!”

Simon turned back to face Maxwell and slowly lowered himself into a shaky fighting stance, his fists shaking. Maxwell assembled himself into a more professional-looking stance, his metal arm shining as bright as the smile he kept flashing.

Simone eyed the mechanical limb warily. If he was lying, then he was going to get hit by an arm made of metal. If he was telling the truth, he was going to get hit by an arm made of metal, and regular arm that punched with the same strength. Either way, he was going to get hurt today.

The old man slammed his staff down, “Begin!”

Maxwell yelled out and charged, leaving Simon no choice but to do the same.